


Mom Voice

by Bella_Dahlia



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki and Peter Parker are buds, Precious Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 07:27:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15432018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bella_Dahlia/pseuds/Bella_Dahlia
Summary: Sometimes Peter distracts Loki from wanting to burn the world.Other times he’s just Loki’s friend.





	Mom Voice

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a tumblr prompt about Loki and Peter being friends; specifically that Peter helps to ground Loki when he’s feeling the urge to go all Darkside. Just a quick Drabble... for now.

“I did not send for you, Parker. I am not feeling particularly murderous.”

Peter stood in the threshold of Loki’s quarters, both hands gripping the one arm of his backpack, twisting the padded nylon anxiously. The god of mischief hadn’t been responding to his texts for days, and finally he had pestered Thor into clueing him in.

Loki sat on the floor of his quarters, his pale skin marred by his bloodshot eyes rimmed red. A pile of books circled him, a moat of words keeping others at bay. He refused to look up at Peter, so the teenager squatted down in front of him.

“I know—you’re sad,” Peter said simply.

Loki snorted. “Sad. I am not sad; sad is a weak excuse of an emotion, a school child distraught in a moment’s inconvenience. Sad is—“

“—my parents are dead too, y’know,” Peter cut in. This made the Asgardian look up finally. “Or, maybe you don’t, I guess I don’t talk about it much. They died when I was young.”

Loki seemed caught off guard by the admission. “I... did not know that,” he said. “I suppose I never did ask.”

Peter sat down properly, bringing his knees up and looping his arms loosely around them, mirroring Loki’s position. “I don’t have a lot of memories of my parents. Not, like, specific ones—they all sort of blob together into this big hazy warm fuzzy feeling. But I remember once, when I was real sick, like, vomiting pea soup like the Exorcist sick, my Mom stayed home from work for three days to take care of me. She let me watch Alien for the first time, but I had to promise not to tell Dad, cause he thought I’d be too scared.” Peter let his chin rest on one of his knees, his gaze becoming unfocused and a hint of a melancholy smile gracing his lips. “She’s why I like movies so much, she loved ‘em.”

There was a moment of silence, though not an unpleasant one. Loki slowly unfolded his limbs, sitting cross legged and relaxing his shoulders. “My mother taught me my magic,” he finally said softly. “She tried to teach me her patience, but, alas, it didn’t take.”

Peter’s smile grew warmer. “Did she do that Mom voice whenever she caught you playing tricks on Thor, that whole ‘Ohh, Loki!’ in a totally not surprised, wants to be disappointed but is actually pretty entertained by it sort of way?”

Finally, the god of mischief cracked a smile. “Constantly.”


End file.
